View Full Version : The Shaman's Journey

December 23rd, 2005, 01:34 PM
This is a free verse writing. I'm doing as I go. I will continue adding as the stories, which are true, unfold.

You laid on the table and I stood over you like a surgeon getting ready to make the first cut. I placed my hand on your stomach, the rock hard stomach out of a fitness magazine. I ran my hands up your chest and all the way down to just below your belly button. At first, I just admired your godlike quality, a part of me wishing I could stay in that moment, just wanting you.

I have learned by now when it is time to step aside. A voice tapped on my shoulder and then began to speak. I moved, but only to where I could still observe, feel, and know.

"Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Fill your belly."

In one breath, your memories become my moment.

My body shook and my tears took over. I was glad your eyes were closed or you would not have let me finish.

"Who is Regina," the voice said.

"Nobody," you replied, too quickly.

"It is somebody. I will tell you what I see." My hands began to shake on your abdomen so I moved them. I came around to the head of your body and leaned down to whisper in your ear, to tell you the secret that I now knew.

"I see a little girl. She haunts you. Not because of anything she says, but because of the way she looks at you."

You did not react, so I continued. "They want you to know that they all forgive you. Not that you are forgiven, but that each one does forgive you. But the dreams will not stop until you also forgive you. You do not pray anymore."

You shook your head gently and tensed your arms. I did not feel you tense them. I just knew that you did. I came down to your side and kissed your hand. I bowed out.

I watched you after as you said very little. "That was impressive." But I did not know what was impressive because I just saw. I did not know.

The next time we met, you brought something with you. You wanted to show me, but you were afraid. I understood. I knew, because of how I shook, that it must be terrifying for you. You resisted. I encouraged you, and then you reached into your pocket.

You laid a pretty purple scarf into my hands along with some vibrant blue beads. You laid something on me I was not prepared for. I thought I was prepared. I knew it would be horrific. I did not know it would be everything that it was.

You told me Regina lives with you. I touched her. Now she lives with me, too.

December 25th, 2005, 01:11 PM
I am not sure I believe that this is a true story, but I am not sure exactly what is going on in it either. I would like to see more so I can figure it out.

December 27th, 2005, 06:43 AM
I got into my car and began to drive, still in shock. I went a few miles and the shock was replaced with a deep sadness and gory images that my eyes could not stop seeing.

Your young 23 year old tempting blue eyes, and your lips, repeating, in sentences broken with choked back tears.

"My best friend died in my arms. He died because I sent him into a building where an Iraqi shot him. He came out of the building and died in my arms. I went into the building and I shot the Iraqi. His family was there with him. His wife, two sons, and a little girl. I...killed them all. They were all screaming. All of them, except the little girl. Her father called her, "Regina". She had the bluest eyes. And she just watched me the entire time. She never spoke or uttered any sound. I killed her last. She didn't react. She didn't cry. I slit her throat and rubbed her face into her father's chest. It was the last day I prayed. It was the last time I cried."

Then the picture of you smelling her purple scarf came to my eyes. There was no pain in your face as you pulled the scarf to your nose and said, "I still smell her. This was in her hair." Your eyes closed and held the pain there. That much I could see.

I was still crying as I pulled into my driveway. I did not know if the tears belonged to me, or to you, or to Regina. A voice in my ear whispered, "Take a warm bath. Wash this away. And sleep. We will help you."

I slept for three hours, which made for a long afternoon nap. It was a deep and restful sleep and I did not remember dreaming. I woke with Regina's voice singing in my ear, "I was not afraid to die. I was afraid to live." I began repeating the words, "Kill them or kill me. Kill them or kill me. Kill them or kill me." My hand was stabbing at my chest and then stabbing at them, the young Iraqi family. Only now did I know that it was not a soldier man maliciously slaughtering an innocent family, but a little boy who saw only two colors. "Kill them, or kill me." He did not see he killed himself when he killed them.

I spent the rest of the day telling them to close the gate. If this is what it means to know, I would rather be blind. But it was too late. The gatekeeper sang into my ear, "Sister, you can not close the gate. You made a promise before this life. You reaffirmed your promise when you were just a child, and you have made a vow. This will be your test...to see what you are made of. I tell you, you are made of light."

I took a deep breath. And then another. And then I stepped aside.

December 27th, 2005, 07:01 AM
I am not sure I believe that this is a true story,

No worries. I am not telling the story so that you believe it. I am telling it so that I can work through it.

but I am not sure exactly what is going on in it either. I would like to see more so I can figure it out.

I'm not sure either. What I have written so far is where it has ended so far and I am trying to plan my next move.

I have stories similar to this one, but none quite as compelling or mind boggling for me. This one is a heartbreaker for me, so I just need to get it out there.

February 13th, 2006, 01:20 PM
For what should I waste any tears on you
And my petty indulgences.
Nothing more than a Josie Grossy flashback
To the girl who is always looked over and then passed over,
To the girl who is good, but never good enough,
To the girl who can wrestle like the boys,
But just isn’t prom material.

Honesty is too harsh a virtue.
Integrity, a rare commodity.
The world is full of liars,
I am but one.

For making a promise to a soul I didn’t take
To save you from self-loathing inevitable destruction.
All the while telling myself I’m searching for the angle,
All the while searching for my edge.
All the while possessing a piece of you
That doesn’t belong to me.

These are your battle wounds,
I have my own branding scars.
I’ve left the trenches, but you remain,
We are but soldiers.

For we have seen the darkness of the human heart,
The rotting of life and the justice that fails to do right by us.
Closing our eyes because we can’t bear to see more death.
Closing our hearts because the day goes by just a little easier.
Closing our doors so we can forget the past
As we watch it through open windows.

The little girl finds her way into all my visions.
Her haunting eyes remind me of a soldier’s oath.
She holds your heart out to me still...
The window never closes.